The Origin of Love
by Olive Malik
Summary: Harry works at a late night cafe. Louis is Louis. They are in love. Larry Stylinson AU


Harry watched him through the glass panel. The outside seemed cold, the invisible wind tugging at the fringe poking from his grey beanie and making his nose bright red. Harry realized the cup of coffee he had been filling was close to overflowing so he pulled away. The dark smell didn't soothe him like it usually did on rainy days like this. Neither did his presence. Louis always came. It made Harry feel special, but lately he wasn't sure what to make of it.

Some nights Louis would have pain swirling in that blue, a pain too familiar for Harry to acknowledge. Other nights Louis would pull on his scarf and smush his nose up to the glass with care and longing until he left at closing time. Those were the early mornings Harry sat and stared obsessively at the imprint on the glass until he grew sleepy. That was the problem though. Louis never came in.

So today Harry takes his break at a tiny table right by the glass where Louis is standing outside. The boy seemed startled but continued to look at Harry. This moment especially Harry was glad to know Louis' name, the one thing he could hold onto in the loneliness that creeped up his spine while he lay awake at night. Harry waves at Louis through the window. The boy steps back, blinks a few times, and just walks away. Harry watches him go wistfully, just follows that grey beanie through the new york crowd until he can't anymore. That day his break never ends.

Louis comes back the next day as if nothing happened. Today his eyes have the pain that makes Harry uncomfortable. He tries desperately not to look at Louis or how pretty he is today. Zayn is on shift with Harry today and maybe he can get through this. Only Zayn has just broken up with Liam so he is sad and grumpy and Harry thinks maybe he'll just leave. But that would mean facing Louis and Harry doesn't know how to feel about that right now. So he slides down onto the floor of the kitchen and stays there until it's time to close.

Now it's been another two months and Louis is always eating when he shows up. A sandwich, crisps, occasionally an apple. Harry holds up an empty coffee cup once, but Louis frowns. That is not the day.

Next week Harry gets fed up with brushing his wet curls and crawling into his cold bed and pining over Louis at night. The sun is setting, but is long gone behind the skyscrapers as Harry beckons him in, but Louis shakes his head. Today is not the day either. The lady he is helping sighs, but Harry pours more coffee into her cup and whisks away without a sound. He yanks off the white apron around his neck because it's suffocating him. Then he retreats home and sings sad Coldplay songs in the shower until the water turns cold.

Zayn and Liam eventually get back together. Zayn smiles and waves at Harry's Louis and it's all a bit weird to be honest. Lately his hair has been getting to long, but he doesn't want to cut it so he uses headbands. This is how one evening he gets flour in a smudge over his eyebrow. Louis smiles and crinkles up his eyes and motions at the spot where Harry has the stain. Harry struggles at getting it off and Louis laughs big and bright and boy that night is wonderful.

A month or so later Harry is kind of okay with never talking to Louis and kind of completely shredded over it. Now it's this strange unspoken agreement that they don't even ask. This one night Louis is tired and the pain leaks from his eyes throughout his entire body. Harry goes over and presses his forehead to the window and watches Louis smile a little but not really. They press their hands together and wouldn't it be so easy to just walk through the door but they don't. Harry never stops glaring at those messy stains on the glass all night until Zayn cleans it with his washcloth and spray bottle.

The next day Louis doesn't come. Nor the day after that. Harry is slightly depressed but he figures his beautiful boy is busy. A Saturday night that's particularly slow Harry watches a blonde boy leave a book on the counter. He hesitantly shuffles over. Harry runs a finger over the soft spine and flips it open to the first page. Dear Diary, it reads, today I saw the most beautiful boy at a coffee shop a block away. Harry curls up in a ball on the kitchen floor and cries. He cries and reads and cries more until he gets to the last page that's dated from last week. And then Harry never comes to work again.

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**I don't really know what this is. Tell me if you liked it. :) xoxo**


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